Before It's Too Late
by imothelimo
Summary: Carol and Daryl are reunited at the Hilltop. With the impending threat of the Saviors, will it finally be time for the two to confess their love?
1. Chapter 1: A Song of Grief and Joy

Hope weighed heavily on Carol's heart as the Hilltop's gates opened. She prayed that her family would be there, safe and unharmed. She thought of Daryl. It had only been a few days since she'd wished him goodbye, yet she'd yearned for his presence the most. Their last hug had been fleeting, but the unspoken love she felt for him was beginning to suffocate her.

As the gates opened, her eyes searched desperately for him. As the group filed past she recognised them as her family. It seemed as though most of them were safe, but at this moment, no one else but Daryl mattered.

Wearing a dark shirt under his familiar leather vest - which finally adorned him again - he had his crossbow over one arm and Judith in the other, holding the little girl tightly. His dark hair seemed longer, hiding his blue eyes, but Carol didn't care. He was safe and relief erupted inside her as her face lit up. They were like magnets, drawn to each other as Carol ran to him mindlessly.

[*]

Daryl could see a flash of knight armor; it was someone running towards him. A woman... _His_ woman. There was no mistaking her short, silver hair and the sparkling of her beautiful, blue eyes. A huge smile lit up her face, and Daryl couldn't help forming his own at the sight of her.

When the Alexandrians had fled the sewers in search of the Hilltop, Daryl couldn't deny the hope Carol would be waiting there. The three communities had agreed all survivors would meet there in preparation for their last stand against the Saviors. Daryl knew she could take care of herself - hell, she'd saved them all single-handedly at Terminus - yet he knew of what Negan was capable. Not a moment passed without Daryl worrying for her safety.

They were all so fragile now. Carl had been bitten and was closer to dying than to living. Daryl had felt a familiar stabbing in his gut when he'd seen the mark on the kid's stomach who had become like a nephew to him. Before Rick had arrived, Carl had confided in Daryl. He'd told him about the Walker bite and about Siddiq. He'd given him a letter which Daryl had immediately hidden away in his pocket.

After they'd been reunited, Rick and Michonne had split off with Carl. They'd be vulnerable, the two of them, alone together. Daryl had tried to voice his concerns, but Rick wouldn't listen. They'd already lost a few of their own. Francine and Eric had already fallen, and the war had yet to be won. Now Alexandria was gone, the Saviors had the upper hand.

[*]

Carol wrapped her arms around Daryl, nuzzling her face against his neck as his hands came to rest on her back. There were no words spoken between them because their eyes had told each other all they'd needed to say. Since she and Morgan had saved Ezekiel and the rest of the citizens of The Kingdom, Carol hadn't been able to stop worrying about her family. Somehow the Saviors had escaped, and Negan would spare no prisoners.

Suddenly, Judith began to cry and shattered the brief moment of comfort and relief. Carol eased back a bit, and allowed her eyes to wander over the milling refugees; Tara, Rosita, Tobin, Dwight and some others she hadn't recognized before. She comforted the sobbing child, searching for Judith's surrogate parents.

"Where … where are Rick and Michonne?" Carol asked quietly, "Where's Carl?"

Daryl was still holding her, his hands stroking the back of her neck. There would be no easy way of telling her. Carl had been weak with the fever, and he'd wanted Rick and Michonne to return him to Alexandria, so that he could die in the church instead of the sewers.

"Carl got bit," Daryl answered.

Tears filled Carol's eyes, threatening to spill over as she prayed it would be his hand, his arm, just something he could afford to lose. "Where?" **  
**

"His stomach", Rosita said curtly, as she walked past the group towards Barrington House to find Maggie.

Carol thought of Rick and remembered her own pain. Her tears began to fall as the loss of her little girl invaded her heart, bringing with it a pain so deep it felt as if it had happened just yesterday.

They'd all survived so much, yet it had seemed that each new challenge would cruelly snatch away her family. As Carol collapsed into Daryl's arms, pictures of the dead flooded her mind, including the one she'd tried so hard to push away. When the shell of Sophia had walked out of the barn, Carol had felt her heart stop. The world had seemed to crumble around her, and if Daryl hadn't have caught her, she would have run to the body that had once been her daughter's. She would've allowed the Walker to devour her, anything to stop the pain. No one could imagine how it had felt to lose a child.

"Hey, we ain't dead," Daryl said, his usually gruff voice striking the softer tone he reserved for her… only her. "We gotta keep goin'. It's what he'd want us to do".

Wiping her tears away, Carol knew he was right. She watched as the rest of their family walked inside, leaving just her and Daryl standing by the gates.

"Everyone else ... you're ok?" Carol asked as Daryl let go of her. He nodded, but he couldn't hide the sadness in his eyes… not from her.

"Daryl?" She asked, sensing how uncomfortable he felt with this question.

"The Saviors came," he replied as he averted his gaze. "Alexandria's gone."

"What do you mean, gone?" she asked, hysterically.

"They shot RPGs all over the place," said Daryl, "turned it to ashes".

Feeling her tears returning, Carol thought of Judith. She was only two years old, yet in the space of the day, she'd lost both her brother and her home. Though Carol had never felt at home in Alexandria - the place was as stuffy and fake as an old doll's house - it had been a safe haven for Judith. There were frequent babysitter's, a school for children and tall, secure walls. _What chance did she have now ... now her life would once again be spent on the run?_

[*]

As Daryl watched Carol cry, a part of him longed to hold her closer. He needed to melt her pain away. He wanted to tell her it wasn't the place which made the home, but the people. He knew empty platitudes would be of no help, and watching her suffer merely reminded him of his own pain, his own sadness. He couldn't understand it. She had never been happy in Alexandria. He'd realized it as soon as she'd left the house in a floral cardigan and crisp white shirt, prattling on about making dinners for " _moms who needed a break_ ". It was like she'd been auditioning for a role on _Desperate Housewives_.

He'd hoped she'd been joking, that soon she'd take off those stupid, simpering florals and go back to being _Carol_. She was the strong-willed woman who went behind Rick's back to teach children about knives because she'd known _it was the right thing to do_. She was the courageous warrior who saved her family, the family which had _banished_ her, _all by herself_. She was the kind-hearted, affectionate woman who could always sense when Daryl was in pain and always knew how to make it better. Every nerve ending inside his body lit up when she was around. He'd loved that woman. He'd loved Carol.

But the woman in Alexandria, who'd spent all of her time baking goddamn cookies with a counterfeit smile on her face? It wasn't her, and he couldn't stand watching the woman he loved fade away from him. It hurt to watch her pretend to be someone else. Didn't she know that she was perfect?

He'd often tried to ask her about it, see if she was ok, if there was anything he could to do help. She'd insisted everything was fine, she liked Alexandria, she was _happy_ there. He knew that she was holding something back. But she was denying him access, pulling herself further and further away from him.

Daryl had hated Alexandria, but he'd tried, _for her_. He'd tried to fit in, but he just wasn't made for a life of suburban bliss. Alexandria's white picket fences and large, shiny houses only served as a reminder of a life he'd never had. He'd never had a home. He'd never joined a neighbor to play soccer on the lawn. He'd never had a family that loved him.

The more time he spent in Alexandria, the more lost he began to feel. He drifted apart from Rick, the man he'd considered his brother. Rick had seemed content, enjoying the fantasy world around him. _Didn't he know that he was allowing himself to become weak?_

So Daryl had befriended Aaron, the gay Alexandrian who also felt like an outsider. The two frequently journeyed on recruitment runs, and sometimes they'd be gone for weeks at a time. It had felt good to be out on the road, not constrained by fake smiles and picket fences. Never knowing if you were safe, living on the run, sleeping rough, _that_ had been his home. On the runs, Daryl would always miss Carol, but he couldn't be a part of the fairy tale she'd wanted to live in.

One day, he'd come back from a run and heard that Carol had shacked up with Tobin. He couldn't deny the envious pangs within his heart, or the sudden urge to punch the foreman in the face. The man had clearly plucked up the courage to do something that Daryl had tried and failed many times before. He'd kissed her.

Though it had pained him to see his love in another's arms, this counterfeit, phony version of Carol was perhaps perfect for Tobin. Together they could hold hands on the porch swing, organizing luncheons for the older people. Daryl knew that he couldn't be _that man_ , and if that's who she'd wanted, he'd have to swallow his envy.

But then he and Rick had met Jesus, and they'd been encouraged to attack the Saviors. Carol had insisted on coming with them, leaving Daryl with a glimmer of hope. That was more like the woman he knew. The woman he'd missed. The woman he loved.

Dressed in her usual, scruffy clothes, with a gun in a hand, she was back. He'd wanted to talk to her, then, to fight by her side. She'd chosen to stay behind, to keep an eye on pregnant Maggie. That was Carol all over. She could be a fearsome warrior, but all she'd ever wanted to do was take care of people.

He didn't know what had happened to Carol and Maggie when they Saviors had held them captive, but they were the only two to make it out of the Outpost alive. As soon as they'd been reunited, Daryl could see that something had changed in Carol's eyes, something she'd long kept buried but was no longer able to conceal it.

Daryl couldn't help himself. He had immediately run to her, holding her in his arms, desperate to feel her body close to his once again. He'd asked her if she was ok, and when she'd shaken her head he'd known that she'd returned. She was no longer able to wear her mask.

She had never told him what had happened at the Outpost, what had caused her to become so upset, but he'd assumed she'd had to kill them all. That was one of the things he'd loved most about Carol: how despite her generous, loving heart, she could be a ruthlessly pragmatic warrior when the time came to protect her family.

Daryl would always regret his fecklessness on Carol's last night in Alexandria. He'd been preoccupied with Denise's death, and she'd silently helped as he dug her grave. Daryl had needed to quiet his mind and had found solace in a "fun-sized" bottle of whiskey. It was a cheap, trashy brand that stung like a bee and tasted of rancid petrol. But the drink had numbed the guilt he'd felt as he'd watched Denise take an arrow. His arrow. From the man he should've killed. From the man that'd been aiming at him.

Carol had stopped digging and was pensive as she watched Daryl drink. Her sorrowful eyes had connected with his, telling him all she had wanted to say. _I know you're hurting. It wasn't your fault_. But Daryl had chosen to ignore her, continuing to drink and dig, drink and dig.

He should've known that she'd wanted to leave. That melancholy look in her eyes, he'd seen it once before, back in Georgia. That was the night he'd found her by the car, ready to leave them all. If he hadn't found her in time, she would have been gone, lost to him forever.

 _Why didn't he stop her that night?_ He'd been drunk, he'd been guilty and he'd been angry. But _he'd known_ that she was hurting. _He'd known_ that something wasn't right. _He'd chosen_ to ignore it. The next day, hungover and resentful, he'd gone after Dwight. He should've checked Carol was ok. He would've realized she'd run away, and he would've gone after her. Tracked her. He could've found her, made sure she was alright.

He'd made the wrong choice. He was always making the wrong choice. He'd chosen Dwight over Carol. A stupid, reckless, hopeless choice. Carol had left him, and Daryl had been captured. If only he'd stayed, if only he'd tried to find Carol. Glenn and Abraham would still be alive. The war would've been won a long time ago. And Carol, his Carol, would be happy.

Daryl swore that he would no longer make any stupid decisions. He held Carol closer, thinking once again of Denise. She hadn't known that death was close yet her last words were the most powerful ones he'd ever heard. Denise had regretted not telling Tara that she loved her. She'd told him how stupid it was to be afraid, and had accused Daryl of not trying, urging him to face his fears.

 _Perhaps he should face them now._ He was stupid to not admit his love for Carol before, and he would tell her again, when the time was right. He wasn't _trying_ when he'd allowed her to suffer in silence. He needed to face his fears and protect Carol so that she wouldn't feel the need to run away. He'd needed her, as he knew deep down that she'd needed him.

"Hey," he said softly, as he gently lifted her chin so that their eyes were level with each other, "ya ok?"

[*]

"Gotta be," came her reply, the only words she could allow herself to say. She forced herself to smile at Daryl. She needed to be strong. He was relying on her. Judith was relying on her. Ezekiel was relying on her. _Who knew what tomorrow would bring?_ The Saviors were coming, and they needed to be ready.


	2. Chapter 2: The Choices We've Made

Chapter 2: The Choices We've Made

Night had fallen. Carol was too agitated to sleep. She wandered down to the graves. It could've been her resting in the cold earth, instead of Glenn and Abraham. _She should've been there._ Maybe she could've stopped it. She deserved death more than they had.

She heard footsteps behind her and instinctively she reached for her knife. A sigh of relief escaped her when she saw Daryl.

"What'cha doin'?" he asked.

Carol didn't answer straight away. Her thoughts were too incoherent. She'd needed to see the graves.

"Negan killed Glenn and Abraham", Morgan had told her, "hit her over the head with a baseball bat".

Carol stared at the mounds of earth where Glenn and Abraham's bodies lay. Morgan hadn't told her that the Saviors had rounded up her family like cattle ready for their slaughter. He hadn't told her that Negan had treated it like a disturbing killing ritual. He hadn't told her that Dwight had imprisoned and tormented Daryl.

It had all started on the day she'd left Alexandria.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there", she confessed. Her voice was quiet.

She'd been a coward. Their attack on the Savior's Outpost had left her in turmoil. They hadn't ended the fight. They'd started one. Denise's murder had been a warning - there'd be more death to come. That's why she'd fled. She couldn't lose anyone else. She couldn't lose Daryl.

[*]

As memories flashed through Daryl's mind, each one stung him with a sickening mix of guilt and anger.

"He killed Abraham first, jokin' 'bout it, like he was nothin''. He was forcin' Rosita to look at it," Daryl growled, "I had to do somethin'. I hit him".

 _Not one bit of that shit flies here. That's not how it works._ Negan's voice still haunted him. _I already told you people. First one's free_.

Daryl could no longer contain his pain, and he collapsed into a wave of emotion. He could hear it all over again. That thump of the bat as Negan smashed it into Glenn's skull.

"I was so damn stupid," Daryl continued as he melted into Carol's arms, "he said we needed to know who we were dealin' with. Said he needed to shut my shit down. Said he'd already warned us," Daryl couldn't stop shaking. Maggie's cries rang in his head. "He hit Glenn so hard his eye popped out. Made Maggie watch the whole damn thing. Kept hittin' him till there ain't nothin' left to hit".

Daryl tried to catch his breath. Carol was holding him close and her own tears were falling. His guilt had been eating him alive. It would hard for him to admit the truth, even to her. But he needed to say it. She needed to know what he'd done.

"Glenn's dead 'cause o' me,"

He could say no more. His cries had engulfed him. He buried his head in Carol's shoulder, releasing all the pain and guilt he'd been carrying.

"I'm so sorry it happened to you", Carol whispered, "But Daryl, it wasn't your fault, ok? You need to know that. _It wasn't your fault_ ".

Daryl's sobs began to subside. He felt as if a knife had just been released from his stomach. Carol knew and yet she hadn't blamed him. Rick hadn't blamed him. Even Maggie hadn't blamed him. Perhaps it was time for Daryl to try and forgive himself.

[*]

Daryl's guilt seemed to push Carol's own remorse out from whence it was hidden. He'd always known that she'd been keeping it from him. She'd sensed it back in Atlanta. She'd told him that she needed to forget it, she'd needed to move on, and Daryl hadn't pressed her. He'd understood, and she'd loved him all the more for it.

She'd hoped that time would diminish her guilt but instead it had festered. It had always lurked in the corners of her mind so if she were to ever let her guard down, it would creep out, ready to smother her.

"I need you to know something," Carol confessed, "something I should've told you a long time ago".

Haunting images flashed through her eyes. She blinked, hoping they'd disappear. "I'm not who you think I am...I've done terrible things…"

Daryl's face changed to one of confusion "Hey, we've all done shit…"

Carol could no longer conceal her sins. "Even killing a child?"

Daryl's face said it all. His mouth fell open slightly, his eyes wide open. Carol's heart seemed to stop. She had to explain. Her guilt had weighed heavy for enough time now.

"Lizzie... she was sick in the head...", Carol continued, "thought the Walkers were people too. She..." she paused, "she stabbed Mika. Thought she was _saving_ her", she swallowed, and Daryl could see the tears in her eyes. "She was gonna kill Judith. I had to do something... I had to..."

Carol's tears had overwhelmed her. As Daryl held her, she felt as if a corset, long constricting her chest, had just been untied. Daryl _knew_. He knew, and he didn't judge her. He'd understood.

"It's ok," said Daryl, as he bent down to kiss her forehead. "Yer right. Ya had to".


	3. Chapter 3: The Letter

Chapter 3: The Letter

Daryl walked Carol to her trailer. Maggie hadn't allocated him a place to rest, not that he'd minded. He'd preferred to wander, and he'd been glad of it, otherwise he wouldn't have bumped into Carol at the graves.

She prompted him to follow her inside. He watched as she sat on her bed and winced as she tore off her armor. Daryl bit his thumbnail as he wondered if she'd wanted him to leave. As if on cue, her question came.

"You wanna stay or something?"

Daryl ducked his head, tearing his eyes away from hers. The first time she'd propositioned him, back at the prison, he'd been bewildered. Women had come onto him before, but they'd all been trashy junkies. Carol wasn't like that. She must've been joking around.

"I..." Daryl stumbled, unable to form an answer. Is this another joke? He was filthy, coarse, and so obviously inexperienced. Carol was a goddess. Everyone knew it. Tobin had been infatuated. Ezekiel obviously fancied her. Why would she want to sleep with him?

[*]

Carol could sense Daryl's embarrassment, which hurt her more than she cared to admit. The look on his face had said it all. She'd pushed the line once again. How could she be so stupid?

Daryl wouldn't want her. She was on the wrong side of forty and her hair was short and gray. Even in her younger days, before Ed had forced her to shave her dark curls, she'd never been considered lucky I made ya mine, his words echoed in her mind, no one else would touch ya nasty body.

In an act of self-preservation, Carol forced herself to laugh. He'd obviously been appalled that someone as old and ugly as she was had even attempted to flirt with him. Ya dumb bitch, Ed's voice haunted her, just 'cause he looked at ya doesn't mean he has the hots for ya. Do ya have no shame?  
"I meant you could stay", she said, brusquely.

[*]

Daryl shuffled awkwardly. "'M'kay, I'll take the floor".

Despite having slept on many uncomfortable surfaces, he was finding it difficult to rest. He could hear Carol breathing behind him, most likely asleep herself.

Daryl felt something dig into his thigh. He reached for his pant pocket and pulled that something out. It was Carl's letter. He'd been ignoring it. He'd been afraid of what it might say. He'd been afraid of saying goodbye to the boy he loved like a nephew.

He turned to look at Carol, assured that she was asleep. It was now or never. He needed to say goodbye. Daryl opened the letter.

 _Daryl,_

 _By the time you read this, I'll be dead. Don't be mad. I'll be ok. I'll be with Mom. But Dad? He'll need you. You need to take care of him. Please. Don't let him lose it. Help him stay strong. For me._

Tears rose in Daryl's eyes, and hastily he blinked, attempting to fight them back. _No point bein' a pussy about a damn letter._

He'd tried not think of Rick since he'd fled the sewers. Daryl knew that Carl had always been his priority, his main motivation, his reason for living. How could he cope without him?

Daryl shut out his feelings and carried on reading.

 _I never thanked you for making sure Judith got her formula. She owes you her life. You've done so much for her. If anything happens to Dad or Michonne, promise me you'll look after her. She'll need you._

Before Lil' Asskicker was born, Daryl had hated children. Judith had woken his paternal feelings. There was nothing he wouldn't do to protect her.

 _When you see Carol again, tell her I'm sorry for what I said on the farm. Tell her I'll be seeing Sophia in Heaven real soon. She'll be so proud of her Mom_.

Daryl put down the letter, his heart beating rapidly. _Damn ya, Carl. Why'd ya bring up Sophia?_ He was filled with memories of the farm, of the days he'd spent fruitlessly searching for the little girl. Something in him had made him get up and try. He'd needed to, for her. Since then, he never gave up trying.

 _I'm never gonna have a chance to tell Enid I love her, except in one of these stupid letters. Life's too short to let these things go, Daryl. I made the mistake of thinking we had more time. There's always more time, until it's too late._

The letter was getting too philosophical for Daryl's liking. He wondered what Carl was talking about, if he'd become delirious with Walker fever. He read on.

 _I love you too, Daryl. I know how cheesy it sounds, but I need you to know that. You're like my Uncle. I'm glad we all found each other in Atlanta. We're a family._

 _There's never enough time, Daryl. Look after the ones you love. In this world, that's all that matters._

 _Carl._

This time he couldn't blink back the tears. Merle had been the only one of "his blood" that he'd ever cared about. Losing him had given Daryl a new family: people he fought for, people he cared about, people he loved.

He turned to look at Carol. He'd had strong feelings for her since the farm, but at the time he couldn't work out what they'd meant.

She'd faced abuse from her asshole husband yet she'd allowed him to yell at her, accusing of her being responsible for Sophia's death. He remembered feeling an ache in his gut after he'd realized what he'd said.

He'd never felt anything like that before. Regret. As he watched her flinch, as he saw the tears form in her eyes he'd had to fight the urge to hold her. He'd needed to apologize. He'd never said sorry to anyone before.

Carol had been honest with him, she'd been gentle, she'd been kind. She'd made him believe in himself. She'd made him want to become a better man.

He'd cleaned himself up and stayed with the group because of her. At Dale's funeral he couldn't take his eyes off her, realizing, then, that she was something special. He couldn't understand what he'd felt for her, but it'd been something intense, something extraordinary and something all-consuming.

When he thought he'd lost her in the prison, each day had become empty. He couldn't accept that she was gone. He'd gone down to the tombs, needing to see her for himself. The thought of finding the Walker-possesed shell of Carol's body terrified him, yet he'd _needed_ to see it.

When he'd found her alive, joy had flowed through him like a current of electricity. He'd never known happiness quite like it before. He'd known, then, what those feelings were. He was in love with Carol.

[*]

Without warning, Daryl heard a scuffling behind him. He turned to see that she was awake. Her eyes were half open as she sat up, yawning. Her eyes opened wider as they absorbed the image of Daryl holding the letter.

The Saviors were coming, who knew how much time they had left? Carol deserved to know how he felt. He thought back to the first time he'd considered telling her. It was just after she'd destroyed Terminus, when they'd been reunited. He'd been so happy, he'd felt like his heart was going to explode.

They'd been sitting alone in the woods. Daryl couldn't keep his eyes off of her. I'm glad ya came back, he'd wanted to say, mirroring what she'd said when he'd returned to the prison.

She would have smiled, and that would have been the moment. He would've plucked whatever courage he had, and he would've kissed her.

But that hadn't happened. Carol had been quiet, hopeless and full of sorrow. Daryl had never seen her like that before, not even after Sophia had died. Something must've been wrong. He couldn't tell her. It hadn't been the time.

"Sorry…did I wake ya?" Daryl asked as he tried to still the quickening of his heart.

"No...I couldn't really sleep…" her voice was groggy. She stared letter, her eyes narrowed. "What's that?"

"Letter from Carl," he answered, gesturing at the bed. She nodded and he sat beside her. "He wanted ya to know he's sorry for what he said to ya at the farm," he continued, watching Carol's face crumple into tears, "he said he's gonna find Sophia in heaven", Daryl pulled her closer, letting her cry into his chest, "an' she's gonna be real proud of ya".

Daryl's own eyes filled with tears, and he and Carol were once again united in their sorrow. When she'd stopped crying, they were silent for a moment.

He took hold of her hand. Unlike his calloused fingers, hers were smooth and soft. She looked at him in bewilderment.

 _There's never enough time, Daryl_. Carl's words echoed in his mind. He knew what Negan was capable of. If they gave him the chance, he'd kill them all.

Daryl had never loved anyone like he loved Carol. He didn't know how much time they had left, but he knew that she deserved to know the truth.

"Need to tell ya somethin' else", he revealed, "somethin' I shoulda told ya ages ago," he paused, and his voice was but a whisper, "somethin' I've been too afraid to tell ya…" those three words danced on the tip of his tongue, ready for him to release them.

There'd be no going back from this. He could tell her something else, gloss over his near-confession. Or he could be brave, be a goddamn man for once, and release the words he needed to say.

He swallowed as he stared into her eyes. She needed to know. He owed it to Carl. He owed it to her. Hell, he owed it to himself. He took a deep breath. It was time.

"I love ya,"

Carol continued to stare at him, her face giving away no clues. _Shit_ , Daryl thought, his heart pounding, his stomach plummeting, _I shouldn't've said it, she never loved me,_ _I'm a goddamn fool…_

But then she smiled. A huge, sincere, perfect smile. She stroked his face, softly, and brought it down towards hers. Slowly, gently, she pressed her lips against his.

Daryl felt as if a fire had suddenly erupted inside of him. He began to tease his tongue against hers, running his fingers through her hair as he pulled her ever closer. He hadn't realized how much he'd needed their two bodies to collide.

Carol stopped to take a breath, her fingers interlaced with Daryl's. She smiled that beautiful, familiar grin and whispered the words he'd so long prayed to hear: "I love you too".


	4. Chapter 4: The Morning After

Chapter 4: The Morning After

Groggily, Carol woke as thoughts jumbled incoherently in her mind. She could feel warmth behind her, and turned to see that Daryl holding her. She hadn't dreamt it.

Joy bubbled inside of her. It had been a long time since she'd felt contentment like this.

Daryl _loved_ her. Just thinking those words brought a smile to her face. She snuggled up closer to him as she allowed herself the pleasure of reliving the night before.

When she'd kissed Daryl, she felt as if she'd been transported elsewhere. Everything around her had faded into nothingness, yet the nothingness hadn't frightened her. She'd wanted the pleasure to continue, she'd wanted to take their kissing further.

He'd been considerate, checking she was ok, that she was _sure_. She'd assured him. _She was fine, she wanted to, she wanted him_.

As she'd run her fingers through his hair, she stopped wondering when the Saviors would arrive. As she'd torn off his shirt she'd stopped worrying about her family. As she'd caressed his muscular torso, she'd stopped dwelling on her guilt. Desire had consumed her.

But now, as Carol lay beside him, her worries seeped back into her mind. She thought of Rick and Michonne. They hadn't arrived at the Hilltop. Something might've happened.

 _There's no use fretting. They'll be okay_ , Carol rationalized. She looked at the man she loved. He was still asleep, he looked content. _We're okay_. She shut her eyes and wrapped her arms around Daryl, hoping to drift back into sleep.

[*]

A sudden rush of adrenaline startled her. There'd been no warning - just a cacophony of shouts, screaming and shooting.

She lurched upright. Her heart was racing. Sweat dripped down her forehead. Daryl jerked beside her.

"Wha's goin' on?" he growled, his voice rough with tiredness. His face was filled with fear. He jumped off the bed in haste, searching for his clothes.

"They're here," Carol murmured. Her thoughts were so chaotic it was hard for her to focus. She yanked on her jeans and jumper as she mused, _I should've been prepared_.

They were at war. She knew the Saviors were coming. _What was she thinking, sleeping with Daryl, when she should've been out there, protecting her family?_

They bolted from the trailer and together they followed the crowds and sprinted towards the gates.

"It's over!" Negan's voice boomed from outside the gates, "Did y'all think ya could hide here with the farmers? Y'all a bunch of goddamn pussies!"

Daryl raced up to the watchpoint as Carol trailed behind him. Tara and Rosita had beat them there. Their guns were aimed at the horde of Saviors below.

"Now this can go one o' two ways", Negan continued as Daryl pulled out his crossbow, "One: Y'all waste ammo tryin' to kill us and we bomb the shit outta ya like we did Alexandria".

Daryl aimed down, hunting for him. His heart skipped a beat. Rick and Michonne were stood next to Negan.

They'd both bound, gagged and brutally beaten. Daryl knew there'd be no chance of getting a clear shot of the bat-wielding asshole without risking their lives.

"Two: Ya hand over the King an' the Widow", Negan commanded, "I'm gonna put their heads on a spike right outside HQ", he kicked Rick to the floor, "along with this prick's".

[*]

Daryl's stomach tightened. He felt a sickening coalescence of rage, fear and anguish. Negan had Rick. He had Michonne. The mob of Saviors had the Hilltop surrounded. Despite the extra forces from Oceanside, they were outnumbered.

"That ain't all" Negan persisted, "y'all have broken too many rules. When I'm done with ya, no one's _ever_ gonna pull that shit on me again".

Daryl's head was spinning. It couldn't be over. They had to do something. He looked at Carol - she always had a plan - but she looked as if she was lost in a sea of despair.

"I'm gonna need more heads on top o' my spikes", Negan continued, "Along with the King and the Widow, y'all gonna give me that gent with the lustrous mane. The pretty hispanic bitch. The creepy priest. The black guy with the stick. The short-haired psycho lady. And Daryl".

[*]

Time seemed to slow as Carol absorbed the gravity of their situation. Negan's voice seemed to fade as her ears roared. She turned at Daryl. He looked as distressed as she felt.

Dread grew in her stomach. Her eyes moved to Tara and Rosita. They seemed full of fury, ready to attack. Morgan and Maggie would want the same. The roaring in her ears subsided, but Carol felt herself begin to hyperventilate.

"I'm gonna give y'all five minutes from the count o' now. Which option ya gonna go for, folks? Chop, chop..." Negan ordered.

Daryl rested a hand on her shoulder, "ya alright?"

Carol shook her head.

"We ain't givin' up, okay?" Daryl coaxed as Negan began to whistle, "let's go down, see if Maggie's got a plan".

Carol almost stumbled as they headed down to the others. Her legs didn't want to move. _He's got Rick and Michonne_ , she mused, _he's got us surrounded. What choice do we have?_

"What would Rick want us to do?" Gabriel asked.

"We have to try. We won't give up," was Maggie's response.

"He'll blow up the Hilltop!" Jesus shouted, "we can't give him that chance!"

"We won't give him that chance," Morgan interjected, "we can still win".

Carol thought of Judith. Her home was destroyed, her brother was dead and her parents were captured. If they didn't surrender, Negan would annihilate the Hilltop.

"Two minutes!" Negan interrupted,"not making a decision is a _big_ decision. Y'all really wanna let all these people die?"

"How can we win?" Carol stammered, thinking not only of Judith but of Henry and baby Gracie, "there's children here. Negan will destroy this place, just like he did Alexandria. He'll kill them all. We can't let him".

"Carol is correct," announced Ezekiel, " we are responsible for all citizens of the Kingdom, the Hilltop and Alexandria. We cannot risk their lives. We must surrender".

[*]

Daryl felt as if he was being strangled by his conflicting thoughts. Carol had a point. If Carl and Dwight hadn't helped them, they all would've died in Alexandria. They could try and fight, but Negan had the upper hand. They could lose.

On the other hand, the Saviors built their life on murder and plundering. Glenn and Abraham certainly weren't the first and they wouldn't be the last. Negan was an evil dictator. They had to at least _try_ to stop him.

"We ain't got no choice," Daryl roared, "we ain't backin' down. We gotta fight".


	5. Chapter 5: It Ain't Over Til It's Over

Chapter 5: The Last Stand

Daryl jerked his head towards the Saviors, commanding the Militia to launch their attack.

"Ho-ly shit! So it's option one?" Negan hollered. "Bombs away!"

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. The Saviors fired their RPGs, lighting the sky with a flash of blazing orange.

Daryl's stomach clenched as he watched the flash blaze into Barrington House. The mansion's upper left side exploded into flames.

Daryl could hear the uproar below. People were screaming. People were shouting. People were crying. The House's left corner had been completely destroyed, and the flames continued to devour the building.

Anger overwhelmed him. He fired rapidly at the Saviors.

[*]

As soon as Carol witnessed the incineration of Barrington House, she felt herself begin to hyperventilate. Her vision was coming true.

"Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit!" Negan declared as Carol lowered her weapon. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking, "Y'all still don't get it, do ya?" he nodded at one of the Saviors, "Kevin, destroy the whole damn place! "

She tried to breathe. A grenade flew over her head and smashed into a group of trailers. They couldn't match them. They had no RPG's. They had nothing.

"Y'all enjoyin' the smoky surprise?" Negan leered into his microphone, "It can end. Just hand them over."

"We need to surrender!" Carol begged Maggie, who continued to fire at the Saviors, "We need to surrender now!"

She didn't turn around, "He wants us all. The others won't give up."

"Make them!" Carol shouted, "He's going to destroy it all. It's over!"

[*]

Daryl ran out of arrows. He picked up one of the reserve guns, an AK-47, and continued to take out the Saviors.

They retaliated, narrowly missing him.

He heard a cry next to him and saw Tara clutch at her chest. Her shirt was covered in blood. She fell to the floor.

Rosita rushed to her as he wiped out a group of Saviors below.

"She's… she's gone!" she cried as she took Tara's pistol.

The wood beneath them shook with another explosion.

Daryl had no time to grieve. As Rosita put Tara down, he continued to fire at the Saviors until he clicked his gun with the sickening realization that he'd run out of ammo.

[*]

Amidst the clamor of gunshots, Carol ran towards one of the larger trailers, hoping that Maggie could convince the others to quit.

Ezekiel was guarding the vulnerable. They were hidden in one of the trailers. She needed to get them out.

Without warning, Carol was thrown onto the ground. A grenade had exploded a nearby paddock. An ear-splitting ring roared in her ears.

Ignoring the pain in her back, she forced herself off the ground and pushed forwards, heading toward the trailer.

She staggered toward the trailer door and pushed it open. Enid held Judith, who was sobbing into her chest. Baby Gracie was wailing in Jerry's arms. Henry stood with a somber Ezekiel, gripping his stick tightly as if it was his lifeline.

"Come on!" Carol ordered, "We've got to go!"

[*]

As Daryl searched for another weapon, he stumbled over the bodies strewn across the floor. He recognized Tobin's, Barbara's and Kal's.

"It's over!" Maggie shouted, "We need to surrender!"

"I'm not quitting!" Rosita continued to shoot at the Saviors.

Daryl snatched Tobin's rifle. "It ain't over yet."

[*]

Carol led the group out of the trailer and they ran towards the inferno of Barrington House. There was another gate behind it, which could lead to their escape.

"Dude, we're totally stuck." Jerry said as they passed the mansion, "Those Saviors are _everywhere_."

"They're focused on the entrance. There'll be less here," she replied as they reached the gate, "I'll cover you."

Carol mowed down the Saviors as she ran out the gates. The others trailed behind her. She headed towards the woods, hoping they could hide there and find a cabin.

"Gotcha."

Carol stopped. She didn't recognize the voice.

Out of the trees came an army of Saviors.

[*]

Daryl's stomach lurched. _Carol_.

She'd been captured. She and Ezekiel were restrained and being led towards Negan.

Daryl stopped firing his gun. A Savior was carrying Lil' Asskicker.

Behind them, Enid, Jerry, and Nabila were kneeling, guns pointed at their heads.

He looked at Rosita, who dropped her weapon and returned his gaze.

"It's over."


	6. Chapter 6: The Line Up

Daryl, along with the others, had been pushed onto his knees. He could see Carol opposite him, who was breathing heavily.

He longed to run to her, to hold her, to kiss her pain away, but he couldn't. Like Rick and Michonne, they'd been bound and gagged.

It was just like the last time. A group of them, kneeling in a circle, waiting to see who Negan would choose.

Only this time, they would all be chosen.

"I ain't gonna waste Lucille on y'all. Unlike yer husband…" Negan smirked at Maggie, "I'm gonna need yer faces to be... recognizable."

Daryl blinked, shoving his memories out of his mind. He continued to watch Carol as he mused, _I love ya_.

At least he'd told her. At least he'd felt her lips against his. At least they'd spent that night together.

[*]

As Carol kneeled, hyperventilating, she thought back to the prison. After T-Dog had saved her, she'd spent days hiding in a cell. She'd had no food, no water and was convinced she was going to die.

After Daryl had rescued her, she'd told him that she had nine lives. She'd believed it. She'd escaped death's clutches too many times.

She'd run out of lives. She could join Sophia in Heaven.

 _No_. She'd be going to Hell.

"It didn't have to be this way," Negan continued, "I was willin' to work with ya," he caressed Lucille, "but y'all didn't wanna follow the rules."

"Doctor Smartypants' made me some bullets", Negan pointed his bat at Eugene, "and y'all," he pointed his bat at the group, "have the honors of bein' the first I kill with 'em."

[*]

As the Saviors aimed their guns at the group, memories burst through Daryl's mind. He thought of his Momma, of her husky voice and bony arms. He remembered the flames licking the sofa she slept on, he remembered crying out her name, he remembered running to the woods.

He felt the lashes on his back. His Daddy shouting. The guilty relief of finding him dead.

He relived the joy he'd felt when Merle returned from Juvie. He'd followed him around, watching him deal drugs, hitting on skanks, watching trashy TV all day.

They'd been inseparable, up until the Walkers came. Up until he'd met Carol.

He remembered the first time he saw her, how quiet she was, how scared. She'd been a timid little mouse, yet she'd smashed her husband's skull in with such force and ferocity.

He remembered the way she smiled through her tears after he'd given her the Cherokee rose. Her warmth and lightness as he'd carried her to safety from the tombs.

He remembered her confident grin as she'd asked him if he'd wanted to screw around, as she'd reminded him that she'd liked him first, as she'd called him Pookie.

He remembered his desperation to run to her after Terminus, how tightly he'd held her, how he hadn't wanted to ever let her go.

Carol looked back into his eyes before she closed them. Daryl kept his open, watching as the Saviors pulled the triggers.

 _Bang._

[*]

Carol continued to breathe rapidly. _Continued to breathe_. Wasn't she dead?

She opened her eyes. She was surrounded by fire. The Saviors were screaming, they were running away.

Negan lurched towards Eugene as Dwight jumped in front of the scientist.

"Ya goddamn-" he began to shout, but his words were silenced.

Dwight had shot Negan.


	7. Chapter 7: Starting Over

The morning light woke Daryl. Carol had slept cuddling up to him, her head resting on his chest, her silver hair tickling his nose. It had grown longer and now curled down to her shoulders. Gently, he stroked it, hoping she'd wake up.

At Carol's persuasion, he'd cut his hair as short as it'd been at the farm. Now he had a girlfriend, he'd felt encouraged to shower more often.

He'd never had one before. He wasn't sure how it would work. He'd been worried that a romantic relationship would change the beautiful bond he'd had with Carol.

It hadn't. Apart from making love as often as they could, the couple remained as close as they had been in Georgia. Life was good.

Carol stirred beside him.

"Do we have to go?" she mumbled.

"M'hmm," he softly kissed her cheek, "we gotta give Maggie a ride."

She'd given birth to a healthy 6lb 8oz boy a few weeks ago. The thought of meeting him jolted Carol with energy. She sat up smiling.

"I can't wait to see the baby!"

Despite feeling the same, Daryl grunted. Part of him still felt responsible for Glenn's death. He owed it to him to be there for his son.

"Ain't stayin' there long," he lurched off the bed, "'bout twenty miles from there to Alexandria."

Carol nodded as she headed towards the wardrobe, trying to hide the anxiety in her voice, "no, we can't be late."

After the war, she'd decided to stay in the Kingdom. She couldn't face going back to Alexandria, a place that had not only emotionally destroyed her but would now remind her of the people they'd lost.

She'd thought that Daryl would've wanted to return to his home, to be with Rick, Michonne, and Judith.

Sure, he'd told her that he loved her, and they'd slept together, but they were in the middle of the war. Emotions were high. It could've just been the heat of the moment.

When it was over. she'd returned to the Kingdom. She'd apologized to Daryl, telling him that she couldn't go back to Alexandria. She hadn't expected him to join her, to leave his family.

"Ain't leavin' ya," he'd told her, "wanna start over. Both of us. Together."

As Carol opened the wardrobe, she took a deep breath, pushing her anxieties aside. Today would be the first time she'd return to Alexandria.

As much as it pained her, she needed to go back. She owed it to Rick and Michonne.

Carol forced herself to smile as she pulled out a beautiful, blue dress that she'd salvaged on a supply run to a local mall. She'd been so used to wearing dowdy jeans and baggy tank tops. She couldn't remember the last time she'd worn a dress.

Unbeknownst to Daryl, she'd also picked up a suit for him. She knew he'd hate it. She held it out to him and watched as his eyes widened.

"Ain't wearin' no monkey suit."

"It's just for the ceremony," Carol folded it on the bed, "you've got to wear it," she watched Daryl turn away, grunting, "you're the best man!"

Carol put their clothes in their black Dodge Challenger, along with a cake she'd improvised out of sorghum flour, eggs and apples.

"You're one hella baker!" Jerry smiled, jumping in the back seat of the car. "Morgan comin' too?"

Carol shook her head. "He wants to stay with Henry and Ezekiel."

Daryl headed toward the Challenger, reluctantly carrying his suit. She found herself smiling at the memory of when Rick had asked him.

"Ain't never been to a weddin' before," he'd told her, "what the hell's a best man s'posed to do?"

Since the war ended, the Hilltoppers had worked hard to rebuild their community. The grenades had completely destroyed Barrington House, but in its place, they'd erected a series of small, wooden cabins.

Maggie was walking towards them, holding a small baby with a smattering of straight, dark hair.

"Meet Hershel Rhee," she announced proudly, smiling as she passed her son into Carol's arms.

She held him close to her. He smelt sweet and comforting. His eyes, dark and intelligent, were definitely Glenn's.

"He's perfect." Carol smiled.

After leaving Jesus in charge of her baby, Maggie bounded in the Challenger, joining Jerry in the back.

There were twenty miles between them and Alexandria. Daryl drove, while Carol fiddled with the music. The previous owner appeared to have an obsession with the '80s, which led her to find the perfect tune.

The guitar opening caused Daryl to groan, while Maggie and Jerry struggled to contain their laughter. Carol smiled, looking out the window as she listened to Billy Idol.

 _It's a nice day for a white wedding._

 _It's a nice day to start again._


	8. Chapter 8: Trying

Chapter 8: Trying

Daryl tightly gripped the steering wheel, trying to push his worries out of his mind. He'd never been to a wedding before. He didn't know what a best man was supposed to do or supposed to say. He glanced in his rearview mirror as he mused, how am I gonna make a goddamn speech?

He didn't want to let Rick down. He wasn't his blood, but he was still his brother.

Daryl had often visited Alexandria. He'd traded supplies and checked up on Rick, Michonne, and Judith.

The little girl was walking now, and could utter a few words, affectionately calling her uncle, "Darra". Rick and Michonne, still doting parents, were known as "momma" and "dadda" and it had been heartwarming to see the toddler so full of joy.

Although she'd majored in Classical Art, Michonne had used her knowledge of design to assist in Alexandria's reconstruction. Houses were beginning to be redesigned and rebuilt, which gave her hope for the future of the community.

Rick, however, had changed since Carl's death. It was as if a part of him was missing, but no one could figure out what it was or how it had affected him.

A few weeks after the war, Daryl had journeyed back to Alexandria. He'd found Rick in his house, drinking alone.

Daryl had silently stood and watched his brother. He'd been waiting for Rick to speak, to confide in him. It had taken a while.

"I'm okay." He'd said, continuing to drink.

Ya ain't, Daryl had thought as he'd responded with "mhmm". He'd sat beside Rick and gestured to the whiskey bottle.

"I can't sleep," Rick had continued as he passed Daryl the whiskey, "didn't wanna disturb Michonne."

"'Kay," he'd grunted, taking a sip, "she good?"

"She is. She designed a site for the school today."

"What 'bout ya?"

"I'm no good at that stuff."

"Nah, but yer a damn good leader."

"I'm not!" Rick had smashed the bottle onto the floor, almost breaking it. He breathed deeply; his eyes filled with tears. "Carl's dead because of me."

"That ain't true," Daryl had used his softer voice, the one he usually reserved for Carol, "ya did yer best by yer boy."

"I should've been there, I could've saved him," Rick had begun to cry, "I only cared about the war. I should've been there for my son."

"Ya did yer best for him. He knew that," Daryl had placed his hand on Rick's shoulder, "ya can't blame yerself," he removed his hand, "Carl wouldn't ya to."

"No. He-" Rick had paused to wipe his tears away, "he said I shouldn't be mad," he took another sip of the whiskey, "but it's so damn hard."

"Ain't easy," he'd picked at the skin on his thumb, "but ya gotta try."

"He wanted me to marry Michonne."

At first, Daryl had stared at his brother, not quite knowing how to respond. Growing up, no one had ever gotten married, not even his parents. But Rick was different, he was traditional. He'd been married before.

"Do ya wanna?"

Rick had gulped down some more whiskey. "I love her," he'd ran a hand through his hair, "but I married Lori."

"Lori's dead, man. Y'aint married no more."

Rick had sighed. "Michonne's never been married. What if she doesn't want to?"

"Ya dunno 'till you ask."

After ten miles of driving, Billy Idol finally finished singing. Carol began to sing along to the next track of 1980's Mega Hits:

All around me are familiar faces,

Worn out places, worn out faces,

She had a beautiful voice. Daryl snuck a half-smile at her, before turning his eyes back to the road. He thought he'd seen something in the corner of his eye, the hint of a movement.

He eased on the brakes, hoping to slow a little. His gut had tightened in warning.

"What is it?" Carol's voice was quiet, her eyes were wide with fear.

He could see it. Approaching them in the distance, there was a herd of walkers.


	9. Chapter 9: The Wedding

"Could we go back?" Carol asked fearfully. Daryl was braking heavily.

"Nah," he grabbed his crossbow, "ain't no other route."

The four of them jumped out of the Challenger, aiming at the two-dozen walkers that were staggering towards them.

Jerry began to swing his axe into the skulls of the undead, his soft exterior hiding the fierce warrior beneath. Carol stood by him, firing her rifle at the walkers.

She'd grown fond of Jerry. Though she'd found him mildly irritating at first, the two had become friends. He'd never failed to make her laugh.

Carol watched as Maggie used her pistol to mow down several walkers. Despite only giving birth a few weeks ago, the new mother glowed with fierce energy. Carol smiled at her friend as she mused, _she'll do a much better job of looking after her child than I ever did._

The deafening noise of the walker groans and hissing combined with their gunshots. They mowed down a section of the walkers and began to move forward.

"I haven't got much ammo!" Carol shouted. She'd taken out a lot of the walkers, but at the cost of her faithful rifle. Naively, she'd thought the journey to Alexandria would be easy.

She slung her rifle over her arm while a walker lurched towards her.

Its putrid jaws gnashed as she held it away, straining for her knife. She could smell its rancid breath on her chest. Her fear rose.

She reached her knife, struggling to hold the walker back so she could stab it. Something flashed in the periphery of her vision, her stomach lurched, then relaxed. A bolt from Daryl's crossbow had sliced through the walker's eye.

"I was handling it!" She was half annoyed, half pleased. Daryl had always watched out for her, even before they became involved romantically. No one had ever wanted to look after her before. Not Tobin, not Ed, not even her parents.

"Just lookin' out for m'girl," Daryl huffed, continuing to fire at the walkers.

Carol felt a stab of warmth inside her. She didn't want to fight. She smiled at her man.

The herd was beginning to dwindle, with only a few left. Carol and Jerry used their respective blades to put them down.

After taking out the walkers, the drive to Alexandria was smooth. They'd made it there in good time.

Nerves began to flutter in Daryl's stomach as he changed into his suit. The material was firm, constricting. He looked ridiculous. He felt ridiculous.

He walked to the newly rebuilt church, where Rick was waiting for him. He was wearing a three-piece tux, and his usually straggly hair and beard had both been neatly trimmed.

"Can't believe you're actually wearin' a suit," Rick laughed, "means a lot, man."

Daryl harrumphed, beginning to bite down on the skin around his thumb. He tried not to think about the speech.

"I know this all seems stupid: the clothes and the church," Rick continued, "but it's how…" he paused, "Carl wanted it to be."

Carol and Maggie walked to the Grimes house, where the soon-to-be bride was waiting for them.

Michonne had scavenged a beautiful white dress, which now adorned her body. It was sleeveless, showing off her muscular arms, and the expensive, silk fabric glided over her curves. Her dreadlocks had been teased into a high, tight bun.

"You look beautiful." Carol gasped.

Michonne smiled in response. The two women had never been close, but perhaps it was finally time to change that.

Rosita was wearing a tight, red dress. Her straight brown locks were finally loose from her usual cap and pony tail. She looked gorgeous.

Judith stumbled towards Maggie and Carol. She'd grown so much. The toddler was wearing a floral dress to match the roses in her ringlets. She would make the perfect flower girl.

"Are you two gonna change?" Michonne smiled as she picked up her daughter.

Maggie wore a light green summer dress that skimmed over her still swollen stomach and accentuated the hazel in her eyes. She teased her short brown hair so that it framed her face.

Carol felt ridiculous. Ed had never let her wear nice clothes, and since his death she'd never worn anything impractical. But she couldn't deny how nice the soft fabric glided over her skin and it's azure hue accentuated the blueness of her eyes.

"Perfect!" Michonne gently put Judith on the floor and took her hand. "Are you ready?"

The guests had arrived. Among the Alexandrians were Jerry, Dwight and Aaron. It wouldn't be long now.

Daryl was more nervous than Rick, anxiously pacing the floor. He stopped suddenly when the churches doors swung open, and in walked Rosita, Maggie and Carol.

Daryl's eyes were drawn to his girl. She looked so beautiful. Her blue dress hugged her figure and he couldn't wait to pull it off her later.

Carol smiled at him, and he let himself calm. She believed in him.

Then Michonne and Lil' Asskicker walked in. They both looked so happy. He turned to Rick, who seemed to light up with pride.

"Welcome, all," Gabriel began. This was to be the first wedding he'd officiated since the walkers came. "We are gathered here today to join Rick and Michonne in marriage."

Daryl couldn't help staring at his girl. He found himself wondering what it would be like if roles were reversed, if it were him marrying Carol right now. The thought both terrified and excited him.

"Please repeat after me," Gabriel looked at Rick, "I, Rick, take you, Michonne, to be my wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

While Rick repeated the vows, Daryl thought of their meaning, filling his mind with memories of Carol.

He remembered yelling at her in the stable. He hadn't recovered from his wounds but he'd been desperate to go out again, to prove to the group that he was worth keeping around, that he could Sophia.

When Carol had begged him not to go, and admitted that she thought he wouldn't find her, Daryl had gotten mad. He felt like he'd let everyone down, that he'd let her down. She didn't think that he could find her. He'd thought that meant she didn't believe in him.

When Sophia, as a walker stumbled out of that barn, Daryl felt crushed. He'd failed her, he'd failed Carol. He'd tried to leave, believing that he no longer had any worth to the group.

She'd come to him again. He'd gotten angry. He'd failed her, and there she was, reminding him of his pain. The red mist had blinded him, and he'd yelled at her, cruel words he hadn't meant and regretted the second they'd come out.

She'd stood her ground, taking it all, and amongst his guilt and regret at hurting her, Daryl had realized that she was right. He'd belonged with the group.

Daryl looked at around at his family, allowing himself the joy of this moment. He'd nearly left. He owed all this to Carol.

Gabriel turned to Michonne. "Your turn. I, Michonne, take you, Rick, to be my husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

Daryl heard Michonne repeat the vows, but he couldn't listen. His eyes, his mind and his heart could only focus on Carol. They'd been through so much together: escaping from the CDC, losing Sophia on the farm, her banishment from the prison, his pain at losing Beth, the girl he'd loved like a baby sister and the suffering they'd all faced at the hands of the Saviors.

Daryl had never believed in miracles, but it was a wonder they were still alive, still healthy, still together. They'd been gifted a second chance, and he didn't want to waste it.

He thought, once again, of Carl's letter. _Life's too short to let these things go_ , the boy had written, _there's always more time, until it's too late_...

He was right. In that moment, Daryl decided that he was going to ask his girl to marry him.


	10. Chapter 10: At Last

Chapter 10: At Last

After the ceremony, they gathered in the gardens for the wedding breakfast.

Along with Carol's cake, tables were laid with freshly cooked fish they'd traded from Oceanside and salad donated from Hilltop.

It smelt delicious, but Daryl's stomach clenched tight and he felt unable to take a bite. It wasn't just the speech. He wanted to propose to Carol, but he just didn't know how.

And what if she said no? She'd been married before, and look how well that turned out. She might not wanna get hitched again. It could turn their relationship awkward. Ruin it all.

"Are you ok?" Carol gently touched his arm.

He swallowed. "Mhmm."

Their moment was interrupted by Rick tapping his glass, nodding at Daryl. It was time.

Shakily, he stood. He regretted cutting his hair, wanting to hide behind is bangs. Everyone was looking at him.

Just say something about when they met, Carol had told him, something funny. And then something sweet.

"When Rick first met Michonne, he didn't trust her," he began, his voice quiet, "but who would, when she turns up lookin' like the last samurai?" there was some laughter, "Carl loved her," he stumbled over that, "so how could he not love her too?"

There was silence, but not an awkward one. Most people had tears in their eyes. Daryl couldn't say any more. He looked at his girl.

She smiled, a wide, radiant smile, and led the clapping.

Carol watched as Rick and Michonne waltzed to the tune of scavenged records. Their first dance was to The Four Tops' _I Can't Help Myself_. They now began to sway along to _Pistol Packin Mama_. Rick appeared to be a surprisingly energetic dancer, matching his new wife in speed and fluidity.

She tried to push out all memories of her own wedding to Ed. She'd been young, twenty-one to be exact. Her Mom had convinced her to drop out of college and focus on being his wife. The Peletiers were notoriously wealthy, having made a lot of money in the oil business.

She'd been in her second year at Emory, reading Nursing. Her parents didn't have a lot of money. She'd had to work shifts at a local bar to support herself, which is where she'd met Ed. He'd been a regular client and was charming at first.

On their wedding night, he'd hit her for the first time. He'd drunk too much champagne. Her period had come early, and when Ed realized, he'd hit her out of disgust.

"Hey," Daryl had walked over to her, his voice soft and gentle. "Ya good?"

Carol forced a smile. She didn't want to sadden him.

"Just wishing Carl was here." She said, which wasn't entirely a lie, "And Sophia."

He sat beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to him. They were silent, letting their bodies comfort each other.

The record changed. This time it was Etta James' _At Last_. The opening riff warmed Carol's heart. Her Pops loved that song. He used to play it often, on his own record player, swinging her round as he sung the words.

"Dance with me," she pulled Daryl up with her. He looked uncomfortable.

"Ain't no good." He mumbled.

"I don't care." she smiled, placing his hands around her waist.

They swayed together as Daryl tried not to stand on her feet. He'd never heard the song before, but he liked it. It made him feel warm inside.

Carol looked so happy. It was romantic. Very romantic.

He thought about asking her, then. He didn't have a ring yet, but _did that matter?_ He could always get her one on the way back home. Plenty of lady walkers around.

 _But what would he say? Will ya marry me? Be mine? Let's get married? I want ya to be my wife?_

While he mused, Daryl felt a tug on his arm. Rick and Michonne smiled at them. The good song had finished, and The Ink Spots' _I Don't Want To Set The World On Fire_ began to play.

"Mind if we swap?" Rick smiled, "it's customary for the bride to dance with the best man…"

Before he could answer, Michonne swooped into his arms. Daryl stiffened, feeling awkward. Carol was the only woman he'd ever danced with, and she was his girl.

She seemed to sense as anxiety. "Relax, it's just a bit of fun," Michonne said, winking at him. "Carol won't mind."

He didn't respond, half relieved that he hadn't managed to propose. He'd probably say it all wrong, plus it was so noisy, she might not even hear.

"Daryl!" Michonne shouted, and he realized that he'd stopped moving. _Shit_. He quickly swayed, going to fast and accidentally kicking her leg. "Could you please concentrate?"

"Tryin," he mumbled. His palms were sweaty; he hoped she wouldn't moan about that too.

"What the hell are you worrying about?" she yapped, though her expression was soft.

Daryl paused, unsure of whether to tell her. _Would she laugh? Would she say that Carol doesn't wanna marry him? She would know, they're friends, right?_

He looked over at his girl, who was being swung around by Rick, laughing.

"I wanna marry Carol."

Michonne gasped, stopping her dancing suddenly, causing Daryl to almost trip over.

"Sorry… I didn't expect that."

"Why?"

"It took you forever to tell her you loved her!" she began to dance with him again, "when I first met you, it was _so_ obvious, and even then you must have known her what, nine months before?" she shook her head, "I was surprised to hear you two weren't already married. That you weren't already _together_."

Daryl tried to swallow his anger. She was right. He should've told her. They wasted so much time. At the prison, when she'd asked him to screw around, he should've said yes. After she saved them at Terminus, when he'd hugged her, he should've kissed her. And when he found her at the Kingdom, he should've told her, then. _I'll stay here, with ya. I love ya._

"Ain't wastin' any more time," he grunted.

Michonne smiled. "Good. So when are you planning on doing it? Not now, surely?"

"Wha's wrong with now?"

Michonne looked at him as if he'd just farted.

"It's _my_ wedding, Daryl. No woman _ever_ wants to be proposed to at _someone else's_ wedding. It just isn't done."

Boy, was he glad he hadn't asked. "How's it done then?"

"Try and choose an appropriate time, at least. When the two of you are alone. And happy." She winked again, "and definitely _not_ in the bedroom."

"Tha's the only time we're alone..."

"Well, go on a date. You _do_ have dates, right?"

"How the hell we gonna find time to date? I've gotta do runs, and Carol teaches!" his voice was getting louder, he needed to calm down.

Michonne sighed. "Can't you take her on a run with you? Get Morgan to stay behind and teach the kids?"

"Spose." He tried to follow her movements. "Dunno what to say."

She rolled her eyes. "Just ask her to go on a run with you!"

"Nah, how to... _propose_."

"Oh. Right." She paused, thinking. "Rick and Carol seem to be enjoying themselves, so we'll probably get another song together. Why don't you pretend I'm her? Throw about some ideas, we'll see what sounds good?"

Nat King Cole's _Orange Colored Sky_ began to play.

"'Kay. So…" he couldn't look at her, it felt so wrong. "Will ya marry me?"

"Wow. Straight to the point. One second you're killing walkers, and then you throw out that shocker?"

He looked at her, his eyes narrowed. God, he was useless.

"What the hell'd Rick say?"

"It was just after I'd finished finalizing the designs for the school. He was cooking me dinner, and said he had some plans he wanted me to look at," she paused, smiling, happiness radiating from her face, "I opened this piece of paper, and under a drawing of the church he'd written _Our Wedding?_ "

Tears filled her eyes, "I couldn't help it, I just burst into tears, and then he told me that although we hadn't been together that long, he loved me, and though he always knew he wanted us to spend the rest of our lives together, Carl had wanted us to make it official."

She wiped her eyes. "How could I say no to that? You need to think of something like that, Daryl. Something meaningful."


End file.
